


Every Day

by Ziane



Series: "Everyday is Everyday" - WangXian Week 2019 [4]
Category: Founder of Diabolism, The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation, 魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù
Genre: Angst, Day 4, Declarations Of Love, Grief/Mourning, Longing, Love Letters, M/M, True Love, Unrequited Love, WangXian Week 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-28 23:48:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17797094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ziane/pseuds/Ziane
Summary: After Wei Ying died, every day means a lot of things to Lan Wangji.





	Every Day

**Author's Note:**

> Day 4 (Friday 15th): **Farewell** / Journey / Historical AU
> 
> This fic is SadFW! ˚‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥᷄⌓˂̣̣̥᷅ )‧º·˚  
> Warning!!: Implied spoiler of Chapter 111

After another day rushing where the chaos is, Lan Wangji enters the jingshi. The scent of burning incense greets him and reminds him he’s home. There is something about the sandalwood scent that soothes his soul in days like this. He leaves Wangji and Bichen near the folding screen, hesitating for a moment if he should indulge, but he dismisses the idea and disappears behind the drifting clouds. If he plays that song now his heart will shatter again, and it’s almost nine.

Lan Wangji comes back in more comfortable robes. Simple, silvery garments that elongate his figure, his hair draping at both sides of his shoulders, his forehead ribbon still tightly wrapped around his head. He gracefully drops to the bamboo seat, arranging the scripture set and some paper in front of him. With a wave of his hand, the candle lights up. Lan Wangji sighs, eyeing a cooling pot of tea. He was supposed to come back earlier, but he went to see how the young disciples were doing. The corner of his mouth pulls upward at the thought of Lan Sizhui accompanying Lan Jingyi while the latter copied today’s lesson twice.

Caressing the pot to infuse some spiritual energy, Lan Wangji turns the lukewarm water into boiling one and pours a cup of tea for himself. Taking the brush and dipping the toe in ink, he hesitates for a moment while staring at the blank sheet of paper. It’s been ten years and only this brings him peace before going to sleep. Dreading to be a burden to everyone else, Lan Wangji keeps his sulking to himself. In those late-night hours in which his heart softens and the wounds sting. Lan Xichen already worries enough. He has healed the injuries of his body, the scars the reminder of his unrequited love, but there are wounds unable to close or heal.

 _Wei Ying_ , he writes.

The hardest words.

 _Sizhui_ _is turning into an intelligent young man. Soon he will be ready to night-hunt. I am sure he will be a fine cultivator. Today, I listened to his_ _guqin_ _skills. They are fine. As I always tell you, you would be proud of him._

Lan Wangji pauses, sipping the tea.

 _If I ever feel joy these days, it’s because of him. He remembers nothing. It’s better that way, sometimes I wish I could forget my wrongdoings too._ _But when the time is right, I will tell him about you, about everything._

 _Whenever I…_ Lan Wangji stops, the brush hovering over the next stroke. A drop of ink leaves a growing black dot in the paper. The thought of not finding A-Yuan when he did and what would’ve happened to him instead breaks his heart every time. _I came back looking for you and brought him back. I am taking care of him. I promise._ _Albeit I_ _couldn’t take care of you._

_I tried._

The distant toll of the bell announces the hour, and Lan Wangji sighs. Another day has gone. Another day where the world is safer but his heart aches. The truths he never confessed burn him like smoldering embers. The love he dutifully professes will never fade.

A song wasn’t enough.

 

 _I never told you,_ _Wei Ying_ _._

_I could never let my feelings for you be a burden, so I never told you._

_I could never bear the rejection on your eyes._

_What I shouldn’t feel. What you never knew._

_But I…_

_… miss you every day._

_… want you every day._

_… love you every day._

_Farewell, wherever you are._

 

Lan Wangji leaves the brush aside and folds the sheet in four. He stands, the bell resounding at the stroke of nine one last time. He ignites the paper in the candle and walks toward the nearest window. The flame ripples in the nocturnal breeze as the ashes fly and disperse outside until there is nothing left of the letter, his words, or the truths of his heart poured in a sad paper no one will ever read. But there is no gust of wind that can quench the flame in his heart or tame the soul-tearing love that, even now, keeps him alive.

“Come back to me,” he whispers as his everyday wish. “Before I fade too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! ｡ﾟ(ﾟ∩´﹏`∩ﾟ)ﾟ｡
> 
> A gentle reminder that everything turns alright and they end up together!! *cries in hell* (シ_ _)シ  
> Tomorrow's fic is Humor 100% and then... smut, smut, and smut <3  
> ε=ε=ε=ε=ε” “(/*’-‘*)/
> 
> Corrections, suggestions, and comments are more than welcome! ╭( ･ㅂ･)و ̑̑ ˂ᵒ͜͡ᵏᵎ⁾✩  
> Follow the WangXian Week 2019 on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/wangxianweek) or [Tumblr.](http://wangxianweek.tumblr.com/)


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